have you heard the stories about my wife?
by Screaming Faeries
Summary: Rolf is trying to look forward to the birth of his unborn twins, but there's something unusual going on with his wife. Something more unusual than what is considered normal. Twoshot, for Sarah (scrumptiousinternetllama) M for Psychological themes


**Written For:**

\- Gift Giving Extravaganza 2017: Written for Sarah (scrumptiousinternetllama)

\- 2017 Drabbles: Bath

 **Word Count:** 2,069

Thank you to **Malhearst** for your great beta services :)

* * *

"Have you heard the stories about my wife?" Rolf Scamander threw his empty Butterbeer mug into the air jovially as he shouted his question out to the rest of the Three Broomsticks. "We're having twins!"

The pub erupted into cheers, with many patrons hurrying forward to slap Rolf on the back. "Congratulations!" they told him enthusiastically, exchanging smiles and winks and words of encouragement.

It was well after midnight when Rolf arrived back to the house he shared with his wife, Luna. Unsurprisingly, she wasn't in bed yet. He found her lounging in the bath, surrounded by candles, clutching her slightly swollen stomach. She smiled at him through half-lidded eyes. "Did you have a nice evening?"

"Everyone is thrilled about the news," Rolf announced. "It's been the talk of the pub all night."

Luna's smile flickered slightly. "I thought we were going to keep the news between us—as a surprise when they're born?"

"Sorry, sweetheart." Rolf leaned over the bath and pressed a sloppy kiss to Luna's damp cheek. "I was too excited to keep it in."

Luna listened as Rolf lumbered from room to room, struggling out of his jeans and falling onto the bed. She climbed out of the bath carefully and wrapped herself in a towel, before hovering in the doorway of the bedroom. "Your medication box is looking a little untouched, Rolf," she commented amicably. "Have you been taking them?"

"Don't nag, Luna. I don't need it right now."

x

(In the throes of sleep, Rolf was sure that he felt the weight and warmth beside him leave the bed. He heard her footsteps pad down the stairs into the cellar, but he was too tired to rise from his slumber and call out for her.

He dreamt of two tiny babies, but there was a problem. One was blue-eyed and sparkling, with a head of mousy, curly hair, but the other was vacant and scowling, with dark brown eyes that seemed to stare right through him.)

x

"Where did you go last night, Luna?" Rolf asked over breakfast. Luna had placed an interesting concoction of sausage, cranberry sauce, boysenberries and a spoonful of lumpy porridge oats in front of him. She ate hers hungrily, soon reaching for second helpings of porridge.

"I've been thinking about sausages and boysenberries all week," she announced, ignoring his question. "Isn't it lucky that Daddy thought to bring us that fruit hamper?"

"Mm." Rolf resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"You should really think about taking your medication today, Rolf."

Rolf really did roll his eyes this time. With the way Luna often spoke, it was a wonder _she_ wasn't the one who had to take medication.

x

Many weeks passed before Rolf noticed Luna leave their bed in the middle of the night again. Gradually, her stomach grew bigger and bigger, until she could no longer fit into her usual clothes and had to wear kaftans that Xenophilius brought her from his travels abroad; huge swathes of vibrant, heavily patterned fabric that gave Rolf a headache to look at for too long. She seemed to float from room to room, trails of chiffon flipping around the door frames as she went.

Xenophilius insisted that Luna was 'nesting'. Rolf didn't know exactly what he was talking about, but he pretended to understand while the father and daughter discussed birthing tactics and cravings. Luna had been contemplating a home birth in her own bed, but Xenophilius was trying to persuade Luna to think about setting up a birthing pool in the cellar and filling it with a concoction of Daisyroot and hot water.

Rolf noticed how Luna's face paled momentarily when Xenophilius mentioned the cellar, and he arched a brow, trying to think about what they had stored in the cellar.

No matter how hard he thought, he wasn't even sure that he had ever seen the inside of the cellar.

x

(The dreams grew more and more frequent. His children were always a little older in each dream. He was always gazing into the clear blue eyes of the curly-haired boy, filled with adoration and pride for his son.

But then his eyes would slide past him and settle on the other twin. The strange one. His sandy hair hung over his forehead, and those piercing chestnut eyes cut daggers into Rolf. He felt something else when he looked at this boy, but he just couldn't place his finger on it. Somehow, he recognised the boy, though not in the way that a man would normally want to recognise his son.)

x

"Luna, I was thinking about clearing the cellar out this weekend. It would be nice to get the birthing pool set up down there, in case you decide you want to use it." He looked up from his newspaper, watching as Luna placed several leftover sausages into a container.

"It's going to be a lovely day by all accounts," she murmured, looking out of the window. "The Dirigible plums will thrive in this weather."

Rolf looked at the window. Rain was beginning to splatter on the glass, and the clouds rolling outside were heavy and black. He shook his head and turned back to his newspaper.

x

A week before Luna's due date, Rolf realised that she was hardly ever asleep in bed when he woke up.

Not just that, but he realised that there was something wrong with him, too. He had been more tired than usual. He slept through the night, aside from briefly waking up to realise that he was alone in bed, and was groggy and unresponsive through the day. He couldn't drag himself out of bed until long after lunchtime, and when he was up, he remained stretched out on the sofa, sipping every cup of herbal tea that Luna handed to him.

Meanwhile, his heavily pregnant wife flitted around the house, making meal after meal and storing them in boxes, packing away random things like running shoes and tennis rackets and hanging a multicoloured paper garland around the living room.

In his sleepiest states, he watched her vanish through the door in the hallway that led to the cellar. He never had the energy to follow her, though he often wished he could drag himself off the couch and after her.

She was acting strangely—a lot more strange than usual. She gazed out of the window a lot and sometimes walked barefoot through the wet grass in their back garden, despite Rolf's murmurs about the danger of gnome bites. Half-empty teacups were scattered on every available surface, dregs of peppermint, chamomile and fruit tea in the bottom of them. For a few hours, Luna had sat opposite him, wearing nothing but her underwear, and painted an intricate, swirling pattern on her enormous stomach. Through his sleep-clogged eyes, Rolf was sure he saw the green and yellow curls of paint moving in a sluggish, figure of eight fashion across her belly.

But it must have just been his sleepy imagination. Luna wouldn't be careless enough to cast a charm on her stomach when pregnancy already affected her magic.

He slept for a few more hours, and when he awoke again it was dark. His teacup was sitting untouched on the coffee table, filled to the brim with cold tea. As he pulled himself to his feet, he realised that, for the first time in many days, he felt awake. His head was clear, his eyes were open, and he had the energy to climb to his feet.

Rolf didn't even consider going upstairs to see if his wife was in bed. He knew she wouldn't be. Instead, he walked into the hallway and advanced on the cellar door quietly, careful to avoid stepping on the floorboards that he knew would creak. His clammy hand gripped the doorknob, and he realised how nervous he felt.

He couldn't even begin to imagine what Luna was doing down there. Deep down, he wondered if he was making a big deal over nothing. Luna was well known to be eccentric and unusual, so perhaps this behaviour was usual but accelerated, due to her pregnancy. Maybe she was preparing a surprise down in the cellar, like creating a nursery for the twins.

Of course she would be doing something like that. Luna _hated_ an empty room. The cellar was a vast extension of the house that could be used in many a number of ways. Shaking his head at his stupidity, he pulled the door open and began the descent into the dark cellar.

The door swung closed behind him, and he tried to pretend that it didn't jolt his nerves just a little bit.

As he ventured further into the cellar, he heard the quiet murmur of voices. A familiar, tinkling laugh. The lower tones that belonged unmistakably to a man. Rolf furrowed his brow as he crept around the corner, wondering just who was in his house with his wife.

He ducked behind a pillar of cement when he noticed the glow of candlelight, shining on a stretched out lounge chair that sat in the middle of the room. Luna was sprawled out on the chair, and Rolf's heart gave a lurch as he realised how radiant she looked, even in her dank surroundings.

Her pale hair was spread around her shoulders, and her moon-like eyes gazed up at the person who was in the cellar with her. She was wearing nothing but her underwear again and had her hands clasped below her bulging stomach. Her eyes fluttered closed as the man in the room moved his hands towards her.

There was a large, glimmering needle in his hands. He pushed it into a spot below her navel and pushed the plunger on the syringe.

"Luna!" Rolf screamed suddenly, throwing himself into the light. Rolf shoved the perpetrator out of the way and he fell back into the darkness. Luna struggled into a sitting position, her eyes wide with shock. "Are you okay?" He grabbed her chin and pulled her face into the light. Once satisfied that she was fine, he turned to face the man who was in the cellar with them.

But he wasn't where Rolf had seen him fall. In fact, as Rolf scanned the immediate area with his eyes, he didn't seem to be anywhere.

And suddenly, the candle was blown out.

x

("I gave him the tea like you told me to," a familiar voice whispered gravely. "I tried to prompt him to take his medication, but he just didn't seem interested. I didn't want to force him. If I forced him, he'd know something was wrong."

"Nothing's wrong, my love. It'll all be over soon.")

x

"Luna!" Rolf was awoken by the sound of his own voice. When his eyes fluttered open, he saw nothing but darkness in front of him. He tried to sit up, but he realised that he was rendered immobile.

He jerked his arms and legs, to no avail. He was strapped down, presumably to the lounge chair that he had seen Luna sitting on not long ago.

 _Or was it long ago?_ he wondered briefly, realising that he had been unconscious or asleep. He didn't know what time it was or whether it was night or day. He flinched when a soft weight landed on his arm. It was a hand.

"I'm sorry, Rolf," Luna whispered through the dark. He wished he could see her, to know she was okay. "We tried to help you. We really tried."

Rolf was flooded with confusion, and he felt tears burning the backs of his eyes. "What's going on?" he asked in a cracked voice. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat, but it caught on his breath. The warm flow of tears made tracks down his face.

A flicker of light in front of him. Someone had just lit their wand. Rolf jerked his head towards the source of light, and his eyes fell on the face of someone who seemed oddly familiar. There was something about the way his sandy hair fell into his deep, dark brown eyes.

A sense of deja vu flashed before Rolf. Almost as if he had seen this person in a dream before.

"This is…" Luna started, but Rolf cleared his throat to interrupt her.

"I know who it is, Luna. It's a criminal: Barty Crouch Junior."


End file.
